


Take It and Own It

by TheIskraeon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AND NOT A GREAT DEAL OF COMFORT, Angst, CREDS FOR ORIGINAL IDEA OF LOQI AND PROMPTO BEING BROS GOES TO GROUCH, M/M, OC Characters (my own), Prompbro AU, THERE'S HURT, like you wouldn't believe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 22:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10291301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIskraeon/pseuds/TheIskraeon
Summary: "I guess he was right, we Argentums really aren't made to last."





	1. Mono no Aware

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello all! Moving all my fics onto AO3 from Tumblr is exhausting!! UGH!!! But hey, at least they won't magically disappear into the Void now!
> 
> This whole fic is edited by the lovely LoqiTummelt (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE <3) my lovely Beta-Reader
> 
> I hope you all enjoy~!

“Loqi?” Prompto asked quietly as the rain pattered delicately against the window of their room. The pair were hidden underneath piles of blankets, clearly overheating from the stifling warmth but too childishly dedicated to ever admit defeat and abandon their fort. Loqi turned away from his book towards his brother who was swathed in blankets and nestled amongst nearly every cushion they had managed to swipe (that brat).

“Yeah?” He asked. Prompto bit his lip, slowly meeting Loqi’s eyes before speaking up.

“Is…Is Dad ever gonna come home?” 

Loqi stiffened, the movement slipping out of Prompto’s attention as he eagerly looked for what he wanted to see. Loqi forced a laugh that Prompto, once again, overlooked.

“Of course he is ya dummy.” A hand stretched out and ruffled Prompto’s blond hair, eliciting an indignant squeal from the latter as he tried to squirm away from the rough touch. Huffing in annoyance, he gave up and hid under the blankets, shielding himself from Loqi’s relentless teasing. The older of the two grinned, flopping over the bundle of blankets, trapping Prompto; a startled squeak erupted from within the fabric bundle as it was pulled tighter around the Prompto’s small form. Loqi snorted before pausing and stretching his mouth open.

“Why’d ya ask?”

Tentative silence. Loqi rolled over lazily with a frustrated expression gracing his face. He ripped the blankets off of Prompto’s head before assaulting his pudgy cheek with rapid pokes.

“Why’d ya ask Prom?” Prompto pouted, batting Loqi’s offending hand away and curling in on himself some more. Another silence as courage was worked up and Prompto finally answered.

“He’s never here and he never plays.”

Loqi frowned.

“That’s ‘cause his work is important.”

“More important than us?”

Tearful, blue eyes looked up at Loqi; the frown softening on Loqi’s face as the mood plummeted into a bereft sadness that ached in the air between them, pulsing like a stubbed toe. Loqi butted his forehead gently against Prompto’s, clearing the mood before responding.

“Nothing’s more important than us. Mum said so herself.”

“But-!”

“Dad works so we can have toys. So we can have fun, therefore he loves us.”

Prompto blushed and buried his face in the blankets mumbling a small ‘I never said that’. Loqi smiled slyly.

“I knew what you meant. I’m smart like that.”

“Using big words doesn’t make you smart Loqi.”

“How would you know, Brat?”

“How many times do I have to remind you not to call your brother that, Loqi?” A fist moved through the blankets forming the roof above them, gently hitting Loqi on the top of his head. He exclaimed in surprise before composing himself and groaning childishly in dismay as Prompto’s squeals of shock filled the air just as their fort fell down on top of them.

“Oh dear!” Frantic, jewelled hands rummaged through the piles of fabric before gently grasping at the boy’s arms. They grinned up at the sapphire eyes glowing in the late afternoon light.

“Muuuuuuuum.” Loqi groaned again as Prompto laughed, removing himself from his nest and throwing himself into the woman’s arms. She wrapped one arm around him, holding Prompto close to her body while moving to cup Loqi’s face with her free hand.

“Sorry love, I assumed it was more…structurally sound.” Her slender fingers gently squeezed his cheek as she smiled apologetically.

“You come into my house, destroy it and now you diss it.” Loqi pouted, barely fighting back a gleeful grin as his mother despaired.

“That’s rude Mum!” Prompto joined in.

She sighed, raising her arms into the air in defeat before taking in the mess they’d made. She observed the stripped bed and window-seat and sighed once more. Stress and soft wrinkles fell upon her face, the bags under her eyes took on a new heaviness as she considered the damage done and calculated the time left to tidy up their room before guests arrived. She nodded determinedly to herself, clearing away any weariness, stood up and looked down at her boys who were drowning in among the stolen blankets. A strong smile curved her lips and Prompto and Loqi lit up excitedly, eager to pay attention to her words.

“Clean up boys. The guests will arrive soon and we need this place to be spotless for the gala, and remember!”

Loqi and Prompto held their breath in anticipation. Agatha Argentum held hers too, taken back by their loving gazes. Her smile morphed into something akin to their own as she snapped downwards and pinched their cheeks, the pair squealing and grasping at her hands as she did. They looked into her eyes and she winked.

“Don’t drink the adult juice!”


	2. Everybody Wants To Be A...

Loqi pulled Prompto along behind him eagerly as they ran across the second-floor landing of the ballroom. They came to a sudden stop, Loqi hissing for silence as Prompto giggled to himself and stumbled over the fancy shoes his Mum had made him wear to make him look respectable. Was looking respectable really worth the sore feet though?

Loqi must’ve read his mind (he does that a lot) because as soon as he sat down he began to pull his shoes off and gestured for Prompto to do the same with a wicked, rebellious smile. Prompto copied his older brother proudly before sitting down next to him and mirroring Loqi by swinging his legs through the banister gaps.

The gala guests gleamed beneath them with their shiny accessories and expensive attires; some even carried those fancy cigarette holders that Prompto had seen Mum with once on a rainy afternoon with a..book? What book had it been? 

A sharp elbow dug into his side and he yelped before covering his mouth in shock. Loqi fiercely signalled for him to quiet before pointing downwards towards the entrance to the ballroom. Prompto leaned forward, gripping the banister as he searched the crowd for her face. He gasped sharply as he spotted her.

She was dressed to the nines with all the glitz and glamour of a dignified showgirl; her dress screamed luxurious and decadence without a care for the price tag as a laugh twinkled through the air from her luscious red lips that were slowly pulled into a lovely smile. Her golden earrings dangled from her earlobes and her gigantic golden necklace hung low by her stomach, swaying languidly with each step she sauntered across the room. 

This wasn’t their mother anymore. 

This was Agatha Argentum the electro-swing singer who played no instruments, but the people in the room.

Her hands were covered in elegant rings that screamed her wealth and clinked against a champagne glass as she picked it up, taking a delicate sip from the rim. She spun around to greet someone and Prompto smiled as he noticed that she was wearing the hairclip that they’d bought her for her birthday last year. It was keeping her thin hair in a bun as it shone golden under the warmth of the chandeliers’ light.

“She’s pretty.” He murmured. Loqi nodded silently in agreement as they watched her move from one side of the ballroom to the next. She’d sent them off to bed a little while ago, telling Maria to make sure they stayed in their room but Maria wasn’t very good at keeping watch. 

Maria also thought that the boys should have fun while they were kids which was a sentiment neither Loqi nor Prompto really understood (no matter how much Loqi tried to fib and say he did). She helped them sneak out of their room on the promise that they would be quiet and go back to bed before eleven. Maria failed to notice the fingers crossed behind their backs.

“D’you think she’ll take my song suggestion?” Prompto asked Loqi. His brother turned to him, blue eyes darker in the shade of the balcony but glowing nonetheless.

“Sure she will. Why? What did you suggest?” Prompto fidgeted.

“It’s not like her other songs…”

“Well, Mum likes to experiment. You’ll just have to wait and see.” Loqi patted his head fondly and with an attempt at an air of wisdom before returning his gaze down to the floor. Prompto followed his gaze and noticed some familiar faces mingling around the many guests underneath his feet. 

Those were the Parrabreds; they visited every gala without question and Mum said that they were her biggest fans (or so they told her). They apparently also had a lovely, but sickly, daughter called Fira that was rumoured to have the most gorgeous, flaming red hair. 

Across the room from the Parrabreds were the Tummelts with their son who had returned from University for the holidays. Then there were the Ingrids, a lovely elderly couple who couldn’t keep their alcohol as Mum had complained once before. Apparently the state of one of the bathrooms the morning after one particular gala had been less than satisfactory.

Prompto didn’t know why she kept inviting them if they’d offended her so much that one time, but she did anyway. He’d asked Loqi once and he’d said it was ‘to save face’. Whose face it was saving and why someone needed to save their face in the first place was beyond him but he decided to roll with it; it was easier that way.

Their mother moved away from the Tummelts after a few words and made her way to the band, she took up the microphone and after a polite ring of a champagne glass and a pause as she waited for the guests to quiet down, she began. Her voice carried itself through the room, strong but swift like velvet as it serenaded and caused bodies to sway. People slowly moved from groups to pairs and began to swing themselves around the room, dancing in time to the music as it picked up the pace. 

Their mother sang promises of future dances and sang memories of love; she called it her forte. Prompto bopped his head to the music and started when Loqi nudged him partway through the third song, presenting a bowl of chocolate sultanas to him. Prompto brushed the question of when exactly Loqi had left him out of his mind in favour of feeding the suddenly recognised hunger that erupted in his stomach. 

The songs faded in and out of one another, sometimes there were longer breaks between them as Agatha took up a new champagne glass or was called over to talk to someone. Sometimes someone even invited her to dance.

Prompto was reaching his limit, sleep pulling at his eyelids, as his Mum walked back up to the microphone and looked throughout the room.

“This’ll be our last song.” Loqi warned him and Prompto could do nothing but nod wearily. They looked down at her as she continued to look around the room before suddenly looking up and scanning the balcony.

“Oh no.” Loqi whispered in horror as those blue eyes slowly glided onto them. Her eyes widened a little but quickly softened as she subdued a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. She winked at them and nodded to the band. Prompto and Loqi looked at each other before turning eagerly back to her as music began to play. It took a few seconds but Prompto suddenly shot up, wide awake, as he recognised the song.

“She’s singing it!”

“Singing what?” Loqi asked, a confused frown on his face.

“My song suggestion! She’s singing it!” Prompto squeaked as he swung his legs enthusiastically. Loqi paused and listened intently, he was about to ask what the song was when the first line rang out into the evening and he stiffened in recognition.

“You didn’t.” He groaned.

“I did!” Prompto grinned, narrowly avoiding the offending hand Loqi sent his way to ruffle his hair.

“Really? ‘Everybody Wants To Be A Cat’?”

“Mum’s cover is really good!”

Loqi sighed with exasperation, flopping backwards onto the floor as Prompto cackled to himself.

The guests danced and laughed at the outrageous song choice but took in their stride, it was just how these Argentums were. Why, there was the gala last year, during the winter time, when Agatha’s son, Loqi, had gotten drunk. The fiasco was deplorable at best, but everyone wrote it off as childish antics and the whole event was forgotten in favour of remembering Agatha Argentum’s lovely voice as it hung in the air. 

The guests proceeded to dance the night away as Prompto and Loqi were whisked away by Maria who came searching for them at quarter past eleven to find the pair sound asleep on the second-floor of the ballroom, chocolate sultanas scattered and peaceful smiles drawn upon their faces underneath the soft lighting as the band played on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HO HO HO GETTING AS MANY CHAPS AS I CAN UP IN ONE DAY


	3. Summertime Sadness

The three of them were sitting together in the front parlor with Maria hovering over the boys as they pulled roughly at the pages of a book. She winced at each page turned, noticing the slight rips at the binding. Agatha smiled before turning a pensive gaze out the window. It would be dinnertime soon.

The curtains fluttered gently in the open breeze as she closed her eyes, drifting into a daze as she balanced between sleep and consciousness. She was briefly aware of Maria exiting the room before she was shaken awake rather violently. She readied a sharp gaze which softened inexplicably at the sight of her two young boys, grinning up at her like the imps they were.

“Mum! Mum!” They chanted and she reached up to ruffle their hair playfully.

“Yes, you little imps?” She purred as they squealed. Their faces brightened before the cheered an answer. The answer that brought dread to the very bottom of her being and edges of her soul.

“Dad’s home!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAD'S HOME INDEED >:D


	4. Oppholdsvaer

Prompto groaned as he collapsed onto a rock in desperate need of a break, his eyes scanning the clear skies of Summer above him while sweat dripped off his chin onto his shirt. A rude bump hit him on the back and he rotated slowly, a glower set on his face, to glare at Loqi who snorted and handed him a water bottle.

“Come on, we haven’t got all day y’know.” He chided at Prompto who quickly sculled the water. Loqi looked around them and observed the distance they’d managed to achieve, their house looked so small from up on the relatively tiny mountain that was on their land. 

Ever since Father’s visit, their mother had taken to going on expeditions by herself out to this mountain, sometimes forgetting to come back and eat with them for dinner; forgetting to give them a good-night kiss. Loqi had heard Maria whispering with another maid, something about their father. 

Had they fought again?

Father had come home, but he hadn’t stayed for long. He’d eaten dinner with them and then retired immediately to his study before leaving the next morning. Prompto had been so upset, he’d wanted to show him the picture he’d drawn of a chocobo (he’d worked on it all day). Loqi shook the memory of his brother’s worrisome expression out of his thoughts before looking further up the mountain. 

Where was she?

“How much further?” Prompto whined as he handed the bottle back.

“Not sure.” Loqi sighed causing Prompto to whine more loudly. Loqi groaned before turning around and crouching.

“Come on, I’ll give you a piggy-back ride.” He regretted his offer as soon as Prompto leapt onto his back with newfound energy. Loqi grunted under the weight before managing to stand and continuing their climb upwards. It was an okay climb, having to carry Prompto did make it more difficult but at least his brother had cheered up enough to sing the chocobo theme.

It felt like decades had passed during his unsteady trek uphill before they came to a small outcropping where he saw their mother sitting on the ledge.

“Mum!” Prompto squealed and she whipped around, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Prompto immediately leapt from Loqi’s grasp and into hers as she wrapped her arms around him, eagerly searching for comfort. Loqi stood hesitantly to the side, suddenly very aware of his minute fidgeting, until his Mum gestured for him to come join her. He snuggled up to her side and she sniffled a little before finding words to say.

“Did you boys hike all the way up here?”

The pair nodded carefully and she barked a harsh laugh out of her lungs that seemed to hurt her. She coughed suddenly and painfully for a bit before pulling them closer to her for warmth, as though the Summer sun wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry you had to come all this way.”

“It’s okay! It was fun!” Prompto reassured her hastily. She smiled sadly before turning her gaze back to the house.

“Mum? What’s wrong?” Loqi asked, kneading the words carefully in his mouth. She turned to look at him with a hollow gaze in her eyes that shocked him; he’d never seen her wear that face before.

“I just…I just wish that your father understood more.”

Prompto and Loqi both shared a confused frown as they stared up at her, and even though her gaze was directed down at them, she wasn’t looking at them. She was looking beyond at something within them, something far out of their reach. Prompto leaned up and nuzzled his head against his mother’s shoulder.

“It’s okay Mum!” He pulled back sharply with a bright smile, “You have us!”

She held herself very still as she pulled her gaze back to the surface and looked at her boys.

“Yes…I suppose I do.”


	5. Gezelligheid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's getting lit now people >:D

Agatha softly closed her eyes to the sound of her children giggling and the gentle breeze rushing past her eardrums. She hummed, content and cosy in the open space underneath the sun’s warmth. Today was supposed to be the last agreeable day of Spring before it burst into the glaring heat of Summer; soft caresses of sunlight were to turn into a raging oven and Agatha had decided not to waste this opportunity.

She’d cancelled all other affairs for the day (even Loqi’s tutoring) and taken them outdoors to the very far reaches of their land, where wide open spaces were filled with rolling green mounds and wildflowers. Places where not even the gardeners could be bothered maintaining the flora; there was no point really, no one ever went as far as Agatha had today.

“Mum! Mum look!” She opened her eyes quickly, eager to record another happy memory of her boys and laughed as she saw Prompto holding a lizard by its tail above his head proudly. Loqi was frowning, jealous (only slightly, of course) of his younger brother’s achievement before desperately searching for his own lizard.

“Wonderful Prompto! But I think you should-” She was interrupted by a frightened and confused squeal as the lizard detached itself from its tail and landed on Prompto’s head. Agatha fell back laughing as Loqi leapt up, fretfully trying to calm Prompto down and remove the lizard from his golden locks.

“Mum!” Loqi shouted. She sat up again, composing herself before rising and making her way over to the boys.

“Calm down Prompto. Here, hold still!” She advised him but Prompto had worked himself into such a fit that the only way to remove the now terrified lizard was to move fast. Agatha whipped out her hand and grabbed the lizard quickly, trying her hardest not to squeeze it too hard lest she injure it. Prompto was still crying and Loqi set about trying to bring him back to his smiling self while Agatha inspected the reptile.

Haunting red eyes stared back at her suddenly petrified blue. Agatha stiffened slightly and glanced at Prompto and Loqi who were still panicked and paying no attention to her. She turned her attentions back to the lizard and noted its black scales; they were normal on the topside but underneath…she managed to carefully lift one up and was disgusted to see a writhing black goo. 

She’d seen something similar….hadn’t she? 

Agatha glanced back to the house; only the vague shape of her home was able to be seen by her but she was still able to locate the exact place where her husband’s study lay. She’d seen this before. Her grip tightened on the lizard as her gaze turned steely.

“Mum?” She whipped around to see her son’s careful and wary faces; she forced a gentle smile on her face that her sons warmed up to instantly, moving to grab the folds of her dress as they tried to view the lizard from the safety of their mother’s side.

“What is it?” Loqi asked, inching forward slightly to better inspect the small offender. Agatha smiled and handled the lizard gently. It squeaked much to her son's’ delight but to her dismay. While Loqi and Prompto were children and able to overlook all the bad in the world, Agatha knew. She heard the pain in that one small sound and it hurt her. Such a small creature in so much pain.

“It looks gross!” Prompto noted, scrunching up his nose as he saw black goo leak out from under the lizard’s scales. Agatha chuckled softly and squatted down to her son’s level, she rolled the lizard over in her hand as she contemplated what to say.

“It does, doesn’t it?” She murmured instead, terrified to lecture her sons; terrified of them learning too much…growing up too fast. She felt the warm press of two tiny bodies against her and glanced at her children. Their eyes full of an understanding that they themselves didn’t even comprehend. All they knew was that Mum looked sad so she needed a hug. She smiled at their simplicity, failing to notice how the lizard squirmed and burst free from her grasp until it was already in the safety of a bush.

“Oh no!” Prompto leapt forward with Loqi by his side, their small little fingers searching on the ground and through the leaves of the bush, trying to find the little lizard.

“It’s okay, let it go boys.”

Loqi turned around with a pout on his face, his small, slender eyebrows furrowed in frustration (a look she was all too familiar with).

“But Mum!” He complained as Prompto whined pitifully in the back of his throat.

“It’s fine, the little guy’s going home now. To where his family is.” She comforted them and watched as Prompto suddenly perked up, a smile shining brightly on his face.

“Like Dad!”

“What?” Loqi prompted, as Agatha floundered with the sudden need to both laugh and cry.

“Dad always comes home! Right Mum?”

Agatha nodded although inwards she screamed. She had nodded perhaps a little too forcefully, but the boys simply read it as eagerness. She donned a smile and wiped her hands on her dress absentmindedly.

“That’s right boys.” He always came back. Like eczema. Like an ugly old wart on you nose. Like a bad memory. Like a recurring nightmare. Like a fear of heights. Like an old enemy. He always came back. Agatha prayed for a day when he wouldn’t, prayed that the stars would be kind enough to wipe such a sinful man from her family tree; clean the blood that ran putrid in her veins. In her children’s veins. She laughed as a thought struck her suddenly. 

How similar was her husband to that lizard? How slimy and ‘gross’ was her disgusting husband that he no longer looked human but very much like his own experiments? 

Her hands trembled by her sides as anger consumed her, flaring up as an angry ball of tight fire that clenched her heart and placed pressure on her lungs. Small fingers wrapped themselves around her jewelled own and she looked down to see her sons watching her again, worrying their foreheads with young creases as they tried to still her hands.

Agatha sighed, giving in and sitting back down on the ground, dragging her boys into her lap and holding them close. Such beautiful ignorance they blessed her with. Such amazing happiness they showed her, calming her heart and soul as they smiled and lit their blue eyes up with a wonder only a child could view her with. 

The atmosphere rose around her with a warmth and serenity that only her two perfect little kids could give her. She smiled and took a steady breath before releasing their squirming bodies from her grasp and clapping her hands together excitedly

“Who wants to make a flower crown?”

Her boys nodded quickly before spreading out to find only the best flowers for their mother’s head. Agatha nodded to herself as she clasped her hands together in her lap, looking up to the pure blue sky and the Springtime sun it brought with it. 

Yes, she knew where that black goo came from. 

Yes, her husband always came home. 

But her boys were here, they were safe and at the moment, they were hers. Not even the war that raged outside their doors could ruin her blissful mood as she appreciated the familial cosiness of the atmosphere and the returned giggles of her sons as they picked more flowers than they could hope to carry.

“Honestly,” she whispered, “why can’t we just leave well enough alone?”


	6. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Down the rabbit hole we go  
> Where it ends  
> No one knows  
> All the ones that know are dead  
> And left to rot  
> Without their heads

She stood up and slapped her cheeks fiercely; a new dawn, a new day. Time to get the ball rolling. Maria dressed herself and applied minimal make-up, making sure she looked respectable but not so much so that she drew attention to herself. She patted down her dress, once, twice, three times, removing any and all dust from its folds before stepping out of her small dorm and into the already warm corridor.

Sunlight dripped through the windowpanes, eagerly stretching itself on the walls opposite, bleaching the paint and spreading warmth where it touched. Maria walked through it on her way to the kitchen, in search of food. Once there, she prepared herself some toast and a drink of water, hastily eating it before cleaning up, patting herself down once more and making her way to Lady Argentum’s room. 

Maria steeled herself as she stood outside the door before self-consciously backing up and checking her reflection in the window; tucking whimsical strands of her black hair behind her ears before giving up and just deciding the tie her hair up all over again. Once satisfied she walked back to the door, took a deep breath and opened it.

The room was perfectly dark with an air of coziness, sleep hit Maria’s eyelids heavily and she had to resist the urge to walk out and climb back into her own bed. Instead, she forced herself across the room and threw open the curtains, wincing slightly as the sunlight hit her eyes.

“Morning Lady Argentum, today will be another hot one so it would be best if you wore something light and airy.”

She turned around and felt her insides freeze; she was never prepared for the sheer beauty of Lady Argentum in the morning’s, no matter how many times she saw her. Weary, half-lidded eyes, an arm thrown over her head to block out the light, and her body, stretched and twisted lazily underneath a simple sheet. She groaned dramatically before managing to sit up and wipe the sleep out of her eyes.

“What time…?” She murmured as Maria kicked herself into gear and moved towards the Lady’s wardrobe.

“It’s five past six ma’am.” She replied briskly as she set about selecting possible outfits for the day. Another groan came from behind her, accompanied by a loud ‘fwump’ as she suspected Lady Argentum flopped back onto her mattress. When she turned she found herself to be correct.

“Come on ma’am, no sense in wasting a good day.” Maria scolded lightly as she abandoned her task and made her way to the bed, reaching out and gently grabbing Lady Argentum’s arm in order to drag her back up into a sitting position.

“Is that something your mother says?” The Lady grinned cheekily and Maria flushed, hoping she was pulling off indignant instead of flustered at the sight of such a mischievous grin on such a gorgeous character.

“Perhaps.” She replied shortly, swiftly turning around and picking up the possible outfits she’d selected. She turned back around and presented them to her Lady.

“No.” The first outfit fell onto the back of a chair, “Nope.” Another one, “Not feeling it.” And another, “…Maybe. I’m not sure, do you think it’d look good on me?”

Maria paused and looked at Lady Argentum who was frowning at the beige dress. Maria’s eyes wandered over her Lady’s body, admiring her curves and corners before pulling herself out her daze and nodding.

“You can pull off anything ma’am.” Lady Argentum smiled warmly.

“You think so?”

“Of course ma’am, it’s not the dress that makes the woman, it’s-”

“-the woman that makes the dress, I do believe you’ve told me that before Maria.” Maria flushed in embarrassment before hastily placing the chosen outfit for the day on the bed beside Lady Argentum.

“Would you like a bath drawn before or after your breakfast ma’am?”

Lady Argentum hummed, fingers playing with seams of the dress before nodding to herself.

“Before.”

“I’ll get right on that ma’am.”

“Thank you Maria.”

-

Maria made her way back to the kitchen to set the order for Lady Argentum’s breakfast (desperately trying to shake the glance she had at the Lady when she was undressing for her morning bath) when a loud metallic clatter came from within the pantry. She paused, frowned and stepped inside the small narrow room to find two little thieves climbing the shelves.

They were trying to reach the chocolate sultanas.

“While the chocolate sultanas of Niflheim are truly delicious I must suggest that you eat something a little healthier and fulfilling for breakfast.” Maria chided. Prompto and Loqi whipped around to see her, eyes widening in shock before melting into guilt. She sighed and looked around her for any of the other staff.

“Alright you two,” She began in a hushed whisper, “I won’t tell anyone you were here, if you go back to bed for another two hours and wait for me to sneak you the sultanas at a more…opportune time of the day. Understood?” The pair grinned, nodding eagerly, before leaping off the shelves they had managed to climb and running out of the room at full speed whispering their thanks. 

She watched them run down the corridor and dart around a corner before composing herself once and proceeding with her task. What had Lady Argentum asked for breakfast today? Oh, fruit parfait, of course.

 

-

 

Maria left the lounge confused and worried. It was eleven o’clock and Lady Argentum had chosen to retire to the lounge at the back of the house with a book, which wouldn’t be so strange if she was actually there. Maria wandered the halls anxiously, searching for Lady Argentum down every corridor and inside every room. So far all she had found were numerous piles of mess left by the two little Argentums as they ran rampant around the house, screaming something or other about pirates. Maria climbed the second flight of stairs and glanced to her right. 

The East Wing; to be perfectly honest that section of the house terrified her (well at least the third floor of it did). It was where Lord Besithia’s study and private rooms were. The mood around those rooms were much like that of a horror movie’s ambience. Maria always made sure to steer clear of that Wing but today….today was different. Something was off with the Lady and with the East Wing. Lady Argentum was missing and the East Wing’s windows were opened.

Nobody ever opened those windows; not even the Lord.

Maria made her way down the corridor cautiously, pausing every now and again to look behind her in paranoia. Nothing was there. Good. She turned back to the path ahead and continued to walk. She found herself in dire need of a reward for venturing this far into the Wing when she rounded a corner and found her Lady, hesitating in front of a door. The door to her husband’s study.

Her face was pensive, an indecisive frown etched onto her forehead and her right hand outstretched with a key, perfectly balanced before the keyhole. It was as if she had just been petrified. Maria approached carefully (the last thing she wanted to do was scare her).

“Lady Argentum?” She questioned quietly. Her Lady stiffened, her grip on the key tightening before turning and relaxing slightly upon the sight of Maria’s concerned face.

“Maria, you frightened me.”

“Apologies ma’am, I was just looking for you.”

“Why? Has something happened?” Her voice took on a fearful edge that Maria quickly aimed to reassure.

“No, ma’am, just…looking.”

“I see.” Lady Argentum smiled as her hand fell back to her side and her posture straightened until she looked positively regal. Her face glowing with an elegance that left Maria in awe of her and drawn to the light that radiated from her being.

“Maria, I must ask that you do something for me.”

“Anything ma’am.” Maria replied without hesitation, her devotion bringing about a lovely smile to her Lady’s face.

“Empty this Wing for the day, I refuse to be interrupted during my time here. No one is to come here, not even you and especially not the boys, as per usual.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I will leave once I deem myself finished with my work for the day. All queries and visitors are to be redirected and given an appointment for a later date. Do not worry about dinner or lunch, it’s most likely I will not be eating for the remainder of today.”

Maria straightened her spine and levelled her gaze before nodding briskly and agreeing to the terms. She pulled her eyes away from Lady Argentum’s and began to walk back down the corridor, out of the Wing, when her Lady spoke again, more softly this time.

“You know, Maria…if it weren’t for our kingdom’s system of social classes, I…” She trailed off before finding herself again, “I’d much like to think we could have been friends.”

Maria’s eyes widened in surprise. Friends. Not just maid and master. Friends. This was as close as she was ever going to get with the Lady Argentum; the golden girl who sparkled under starlight. Maria knew she wanted more; craved more. Her greed could’ve filled an entire universe and devoured it whole but this was the closest she would get to her true nature. Her true feelings. 

So she took it; she settled for less instead of risking more.

“We still can be ma’am; social classes or not.”

Lady Argentum relaxed, her face warming as a natural smile painted itself on her lips, her eyes crinkling wonderfully at the corners and her presence glowing with enough comfort that Maria, even though she was about a thousand miles from home, felt as safe and sound as she did within her mother’s loving embrace.

“…Thank you. That will be all Maria.”

Maria nodded. Yes that would be all; would be all she would ever get. But that was good. It was good enough for someone like her to even be Lady Argentum’s maid. She was lucky to have been considered more.

“Yes ma’am.” She replied before walking away briskly to do good on her Lady’s orders…and sneak the boys the chocolate sultanas they had been waiting for all morning.

-

Agatha crept into the room, slowly and silently closing the door behind her as she observed every nook and cranny of her husband’s study. Searching for some invisible monster, serial killer, or worse yet, her husband himself, but no offender stood forward to threaten her. 

She was alone. 

The room was dark and drab in comparison to the rest of the house, the lighting fixtures and shelves were dusty. Agatha inspected the large mahogany desk in the centre of the room carefully, trying to find some clues, any clues, that could help her understand what exactly was going on.

To be brutally honest, she didn’t really know what she wanted to find; what goal she was working towards, all she really knew was that she wanted to know more about the black goo. The serum that her husband had ‘invented’. 

She remembered that night, the excitement in Verstael’s rapid-fire words, the purple-haired man with silken words and slimy intentions. Agatha shook the memory out of her head and decided to be brave enough to touch the many notebooks and murky vials that sat atop the desk.

She flipped open the first notebook that caught her eye (pocket-sized and leather-bound), skimming through the pages hesitantly. A lot of things caught her eye as she read brief little snippets about his experiments. She couldn’t make out much; something about lacking the necessary materials and pressure from the Emperor. 

She flipped back to the beginning and paused. Her husband’s scrawl was maddening, running rampant across the page as he wrote quickly. He wasn’t speaking clearly; short little snippets of relevant information was all he’d deemed worthy to record, and even that wasn’t making sense.

What plague? Ifrit? Why was he suddenly so intrigued by religion? And who was this Ardyn? She didn’t- oh. Purple hair came back to her once more, along with a frustrating, smug smile. Ardyn. Ardyn Izunia. The mysterious Chancellor that had suddenly appeared by the Emperor’s side. She remembered him visiting as Verstael’s guest. That was the first time her husband had treated her as…insignificant. As someone who was beneath himself and, most importantly, the Chancellor. She hated the man.

Agatha closed the book and opened another, all too aware of the dust she was kicking up, the mess she was making. More scientific ramblings; she could only really make out the basics. DNA alteration, toxins, the words ran on and on. What was Verstael doing? 

She flipped to the middle of the book and paused. A detailed drawing of the human body lay labelled over the two pages, arrows pointing to vitals with comments on ‘efficiency’ and ‘plague’. Why was Verstael researching the human body? Wasn’t his main job to make soldiers for the army? 

She froze. 

Her blood running cold as she lifted her gaze carefully, levelling it at the many vials of black sludge. Oh gods. The curling lines and mad writings swirled in front of her and she gripped the desk tightly, steadying herself as she held in her breakfast. No this…it couldn’t be. Verstael wouldn’t-he couldn’t! She turned the pages so fast that they tore slightly at the bindings but she couldn’t be bothered with being careful, she had to know. She wouldn’t believe it unt-

Daelin Besithia

Agatha’s breath caught in her throat; she choked slightly, tears pricking at her eyes like a needle on her vein. Daelin, Verstael’s own brother. His own flesh and blood! She read the haunting words printed next to his name and gasped painfully.

I will make him great - Commander? General? - Increase the toxin level - Confinement increases vulnerability and acceptance of serum into system - Extremes - FAILED FAILED FAILED WHAT WENT WRONG

She sat down in her husband’s chair, her hands shaking as she pressed them to her face. She remembered Daelin, sweet, gentle Daelin. He’d been so happy when he found out he was to be an uncle. He must’ve been so scared, felt so betrayed, when…when…..

She sobbed desperately in her hands, tears falling to the floor as she willed for them to drown her. Surely that would ease the pain. Her chest was tight, breathing was so hard, why was it so hard? 

Why did Verstael-? 

What had-? 

His own brother. 

FAILED. 

Her breathing became erratic as the tears began to drown her dress and hands, sliding down her arms and making her both desolate in her despair and uncomfortable. She held a single breath, spluttering it out before trying it again. Slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly, she calmed herself down. She’d mourned for Daelin once, she would mourn for him again. But now was not the time; now she had to know why he had died. 

What was Verstael trying to achieve?

Agatha wiped her eyes feebly and picked up more books and scattered documents, pouring over them for hours. She tried to decipher her husband’s script and every so often stumbled over the recurring realisation of Daelin’s death. She could’ve done something if she’d just known. She picked up a vial and rotated it carefully, inspecting the liquid inside and almost dropping it when it bubbled unexpectedly.

This was all madness, and it was her husband’s madness. Manipulating a plague? Turning it into a serum? She would’ve labelled it fiction and walked away none the wiser if she didn’t realise the mechanics behind the Magitek soldiers Verstael created. Gods, she remembered that day he’d made his breakthrough. They’d celebrated, with champagne and everything, and while she was sipping her drink, sitting pretty on her fancy sofa, some poor soul was…was….oh gods. 

A bird rustled the branches outside the window to the study and she leapt out of the chair. Heart beating wildly. How long had she been here? How long had she mourned Daelin? How long had she cried for him? For the numbers that lay listed in Verstael’s books? There were no clocks. No record of time anywhere in this room. It was a vacuum, a void of meaning that drained her awareness and swept her up in her husband’s mess.

She tidied the desk as best she could and hurried, practically running, out of the room. Barely remembering to lock the door behind her. Daelin, Magitek soldiers, those poor people, and Verstael behind it all. No, no he would’ve still been the Verstael she had married if he had never showed up. If Ardyn Izunia had never existed. Agatha stumbled and fell in the corridor. The darkness hugged her as she wept. Wept for Daelin. Wept for the barcodes imprinted on the wrists of the test subjects. Wept for the loss of the man she had loved.

She felt putrid. Dirty. Felt it right through her skin, seeping into her bones. Her soul felt tainted. What world had she brought her sons into? What family had they been taught to love? Agatha bawled her eyes out into the silence as the last drop of light faded entirely from the East Wing. What had he done?!

-

Maria sipped at her cup of tea quietly, the candle flickering in the evening light as she flipped a page of her book. Another sip. Another passage read. No wait….she’d already read that passage before. She huffed in annoyance, slamming the book shut. She was getting nowhere. 

Who was she fooling?

Lady Argentum’s behaviour was worrying her greatly. If she knew anything about her Lady it was that she loved her sons very much (and that she looked stunning in anything she wore, even if she wore nothing-!!! Okay, no don’t Maria, don’t do that to yourself). Spending a whole day without them in the one place the Lady had sworn she would always avoid? This was not right. Maria didn’t like it. But she had to listen. She had to obey as Lady Argentum’s maid.

But didn’t the Lady open the idea of friendship to her? What kind of friend would she be if she didn’t go try and help her Lady? Maria picked up the candle, suddenly finding determination gripping her heart tightly and refusing to let go. She pushed herself out of the kitchen and into the dark house. Everyone had gone to sleep already. She had to check that ‘everyone’ included Lady Argentum. She had to know she was okay.

Maria came to the imposing door that she had begun her day at and paused. She could soft noises from inside. Soft and sad, so painfully quiet that it broke Maria’s heart to simply hear it from the other side of the door. She steeled herself, drawing in a deep breath before knocking carefully.

“Ma’am?” She called out quietly, “It’s me Maria.”

A pause, some restrained sniffles and a hiccup of sorts, before a feeble ‘enter’ was called back. Maria entered slowly, so as to not surprise Lady Argentum. Her eyes roamed over the dark room before landing on her Lady’s shaking silhouette and she froze. She looked so dull, like she’d been snuffed out. 

This wasn’t Lady Argentum, this was…broken. 

So horrifically broken and sad that Maria had to restrain herself with every fibre of her being before she could run over to her Lady and surround her in as much attention and affection as she could. Instead she crept in carefully and closed the door, making her way to the bed she placed the candle on the dresser and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Ma’am? What’s-” She didn’t get much farther before Lady Argentum threw herself at Maria, arms wrapping around Maria’s stiff figure tightly, sobbing into her lap in gratuitous amounts.

“Maria! What do I-? How could I be so blind? All this time- I was sipping champagne for Astral’s sake! And they- and Daelin- Daelin!” She wailed before dissolving into more tragic sobs. Daelin? Maria pondered the word, tasting it in her mind before coming to a memory. Daelin Besithia, Lord Besithia’s brother. Hadn’t he died eight years ago in a fire? Why was Lady Argentum so distraught now? It had been so long, so much time had passed….

Maria laid her hand on top of Lady Argentum’s head, patting her comfortingly before pulling away and clearing her throat to gain her Lady’s attention. She looked up at Maria with red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“You are a mess ma’am, I highly recommend a bath and then bed. I don’t know what has happened but you do not have to tell me ma’am. I will provide any comfort you need as long as you ask me for it.”

Lady Argentum sniffled and nodded before slowly rising. Maria nodded to herself, desperately trying not to think about the ambiguity of her words.

“Right, I shall draw a bath.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Lady Argentum added hastily, twisting her lithe body around to watch Maria walk to the bathroom. She sat in the glow of the candle, her hands moving to fiddle with the canopy of her grand bed as she tried to push all guilt and melancholy from her mind. One bath. She just had to focus on the bath. She was distantly aware of water running before Maria suddenly appeared at her side again. Had she dozed off?

“Ma’am? The bath’s ready for you ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Lady Argentum whispered hoarsely, taking Maria’s offered hand and leaning against her maid as she stumbled to the bathroom. Maria held her Lady close to her body as she tripped over her own feet; how frail she was. Maria was desperate to set her Lady right again but it couldn’t be rushed. 

Slow. She had to be slow, steady and patient. 

A rock to the flowing water of Lady Argentum’s sadness. Her Lady sat on the edge of the bathtub, her hand trailing the water dreamily but with a depression Maria could not hope to relate to. She stepped back before shaking her head and stepping forward again.

“A-Allow me, ma’am?”

Her Lady looked up slowly, her wasteland eyes regarding Maria for a moment before she nodded. Maria wasted no time, Lady Argentum needed her, trusted her. She would do what she must.

Maria carefully undressed her Lady (averting her eyes constantly) before helping her submerge herself in the bath water. Her Lady sat there, seemingly dazed so Maria grabbed a rag and the bar of soap and began to wash her.

“Will you be requiring some food? I know you said you wouldn’t be hungry but-”

“Yes. Please.” Her Lady rasped. Maria nodded quietly. She finished washing her and stepped back, exiting the room shortly and returning with Lady Argentum’s night clothes and a pair of slippers. She helped her climb out of the bath, dry herself off and get changed. Her fingers flying quickly over the ribbons that bound the light nightdress to her body. Maria guided her to the bed and sat her down.

“Chef made some chicken with mushroom sauce tonight, I’ll go acquire some leftovers. I’ll be back soon ma’am.” She turned to leave when she felt a hand wrap itself around her wrist.

“D..Don’t leave me alone. I-I don’t want to…” Her Lady whimpered, soft sobs creeping back up her throat and Maria hastily gripped her hand within her own in an attempt to comfort.

“Okay. It’s okay, we’ll go down to the kitchen together then.” Lady Argentum nodded and stood up, swaying slightly before resting upon Maria’s frame and walking with her down to the kitchen.

-

“You’ll be fine ma’am”

“Thank you Maria.”

“I know you will ma’am, I…I don’t know what happened, as I said before, but as….as your friend I can say with confidence that I know you’ll get through this.”

Agatha looked up at Maria’s stunning and resolute brown eyes.

“How?” She whispered. Maria crossed her arms proudly and smiled.

“Because, you may be a ‘golden girl’ ma’am but those bones of yours are pure steel. You’re unbreakable. You’ve been knocked down once, and I’ve seen you get up. I know you can do it again.”

“But I’m so…” She trailed off helplessly, setting the chicken back down on her plate and wiping her fingers on the napkin Maria gave her.

“Tired?” Maria offered and Agatha graciously accepted the word.

“Yes.” She whispered; she could only imagine how dishevelled she looked, bath or no bath, nothing could clean the putrid guilt that emanated from deep within her being.

“A good night’s rest and some time, and before you know it you’ll be hiking up mountains again with your boys chasing after you.” Agatha smiled.

“Thank you Maria.”

“Just doing my job ma’am.”

“I think you may have gone above and beyond the duty of a maid Maria.” Agatha scoffed before meeting Maria’s confused gaze.

“I meant as a friend ma’am.”

“Oh.” Agatha murmured,

 

“Yes…I suppose we are.”


	7. Calm

Prompto folded the paper carefully, creasing it to a fine crisp before lifting it up and throwing it gently into the air. The paper plane twirled aimlessly, dipping and weaving before eventually crashing into the window across from him. Bored. Prompto huffed, the puff of air filling the airspace in front of him before he fell backwards on the window seat, turning his head to look out the window.

Loqi had tutoring today, and Mum had asked to be left alone this morning. He’d been worried about her but Maria had promised to take care of Mum for him. Maria was infinitely more capable than Prompto so he knew his mother was in good hands. Still, he was lonely. And bored. So very bored. He traced drawings on the window solemnly as the silence surrounded him just before her released an irritated groan and rolled onto his back.

He knew he should’ve asked for a pet dog for his birthday. 

Prompto flopped off the seat and bolted out of the room, desperate for something to do, even if it was just running around the empty halls. He rounded corners sharply and in his enthusiasm even ran into one wall, exclaiming in shock before continuing his race. He didn’t pay attention to where he was or where his feet were carrying him until he arrived at the slim black door.

Peaceful piano keys carried their tunes out from underneath the gaps of the door and Prompto steeled himself, catching his breath for a minute. He placed his hand on the door handle and turned it.

“Again!” Came a sharp voice from inside the room, it hit Prompto’s ears like whiplash and he flinched back a bit before regaining his courage. Prompto stuck his head in and snorted as he saw Loqi stretch himself uncomfortably, attempting to balance on his toes and complete his ballet lesson. 

Loqi’s teacher whipped around upon hearing the snort and levelled a cold glare at Prompto who visibly wilted and shuffled backwards. She stalked over to him, her sharp gaze piercing through Prompto and making him cower in fear.

“You! Get in here, watch your brother!” He blinked, stupefied as Loqi shrunk in on himself in sheepishly.

“Hurry up!” The woman clapped her hands together, her sharp eyes and pointy nose scaring him, reminding him of some kind of bird. He hurried into the room and allowed himself to be guided by her boney fingers to a stool by the grand, sleek and black piano that stood in a corner of the room. 

Loqi shifted uncomfortably until he was startled by another round of rapid, gun-fire claps, bringing him to attention. He stood as straight as he could physically manage and gripped the metal bar beside him in order to maintain his balance.

“5! 6! 7! 8!” The lady barked as she sat herself down at the piano and began to play a hurried tune. Prompto pondered why she didn’t just start from one while Loqi moved his leg rhythmically to the beat all while keeping balance.

“Is he dancing?” Prompto asked. The woman glanced at him from her sharp and smiled ruthlessly, somehow pulling off a partial predatory look without showing teeth.

“Not yet he isn't. The dance routine comes later.”

“Later?” Prompto whined.

“Later.”

Prompto hummed noncommittally to himself in the back of his throat as he watched Loqi struggle to maintain his balance, even with his grip on the metal bar. The woman, whose name was Frida Natjara, forced him to restart every now and again when he stumbled but she never once told Prompto to leave. Instead, she let him stay and swing his legs on the stool, watching as the furrow of frustration deepened itself on Loqi’s face in the soft glow of the afternoon light. 

In fact, he seemed just about ready to throw a tantrum when he looked out the window, his face lighting up inexplicably. He dropped himself off his toes onto the flat of his feet and rushed to grab Prompto’s hand.

“Prompto! Come on, Dad’s home!”

Prompto lit up and jumped off his chair, following Loqi at a frantic pace out of the small room while Miss Natjara yelled for order. They raced down the corridors, skidding around the final bend and cheering as they saw the familiar figure enter through the doorway.

“Dad!”

Verstael looked up with a broad smile and swept the two boys up in his arms as they leapt at him. He laughed in time with Prompto and Loqi before setting them down on the floor and ruffling their hair, his briefcase bumping against his arm awkwardly as he did.

“How are my boys?” He asked cheerily.

“I drew you a picture!”

“I’m getting better at dancing!”

“Hardly!” Miss Natjara snapped from behind them, Verstael raised both his eyebrows to his eyeline, wearing a playful smile as he looked at Loqi.

“Why don’t you show me later hmm?”

“R-Really?!” Loqi lit up.

“Of course.”

“Dad! Dad! Wanna see my picture?” Prompto asked, practically begging as he tugged on his father’s overcoat.

“Sure, where is it?” Prompto squealed before shouting something about the lounge and taking off. Loqi stood loyally by his father’s side as Verstael removed his overcoat and picked up his briefcase.

“And where is your mother?”

“Here, darling.”

Verstael looked up to see his wife descending the staircase, a sharp look hidden in her eyes and a slight frown concealed by her hair. His smile turned into something much more sinister as he read the mood emanating from her. He knew immediately that her ignorance had been wiped away. She knew something. What she knew, was the real question. 

Loqi watched, blissfully ignorant, as his father approached his mother and wrapped his arms around her briefly before pulling away and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. His grip tightened on her arms, bordering painful. She winced slightly but it the action was removed from Loqi’s sight as Verstael used his body to block the boy’s vision. Verstael smiled, all teeth, and looked his wife dead in the eye.

“I’m home sweetheart.”


	8. Meet Storm

Maria watched as Lady Argentum paced the parlour floor. She had finished dinner only a few minutes ago and had immediately sent her boys off in the care of Miss Natjara, telling her to continue with the dance lesson from this morning. Both boys had been distraught, wanting to play with their mother and father instead, but Agatha knew that if she was forced to stay another minute longer in that man’s presence, she would throw up.

“Ma’am, maybe you should sit down.” Agatha looked over at the hint of concern in Maria’s voice. Immediately upon seeing her warm and tender gaze she calmed down, she walked over to the sofa slowly and sat down.

She shouldn’t bother Maria, she knew the maid had her own duties to attend to, but…ever since that night in East Wing…she felt like she could confide in the girl. That she could trust her.

“Maria I…” She trailed off, hesitant and procrastinating the voicing of her thoughts, because what would happen if her thoughts altered something? Rendered some horrid fear of hers permanent when she could have a chance to escape it all if she just…stayed quiet?

“Yes ma’am?”

“…May I…confess something to you?” She asked quietly. Maria was still for only a moment before making her way across the room and sitting down on the edge of the sofa to Agatha’s right.

“Of course ma’am.” Her voice was soft and steady, so utterly loyal and supportive that Agatha didn’t even know she needed to hear Maria speak that way until she just did.

“I…I fear that something is terribly wrong with my husband.” She paused and was met only with Maria’s encouraging silence, “This…This is not the man I married Maria. This is something darker; something foul and…and sinister. He’s a being so completely consumed by monstrous urges that I fear for my safety each night he lies in bed beside me. I feel safe only when I am out of this house; away from the walls that watch me…the mirrors that track my every move. People!” 

She stood up and raised her voice, gaining confidence in her ramblings, 

“People and figures in the corners of my eyes Maria, and they all wear his face. I fear this is not the man I married. I fear I am not the person I was born to be! I feel it!” 

She turned to Maria and frantically waved her wrist in the young maid’s face, “It writhes under my skin, a scent most rank and putrid in odour! I-I…I’m not the woman I was meant to be…” She sat back down, gazing listlessly at her surroundings as Maria watched helplessly from her spot on the sofa.

“I do believe I have…lost so much over the years but I can’t believe I failed to see….failed to see just when I lost myself.” Agatha sobbed, burying her face in her hands as Maria sat shaken and frightened beside her.

How oblivious had she been? How could she have not seen the unhappiness that clung to Lady Argentum’s shoulders? Wrapped itself around her waist like a lover and then proceeded to strangle her like a madman; how could she have not noticed? Maria cut off her inner scolding and opted for gently reaching out and holding her Lady’s hand.

“If there is anything I could do…” She trailed off, finding herself without any further encouragement because honestly, what could she say? How could she possibly help? It wasn’t like she could smuggle her Lady out of the house with her children; they were all well-known, upper class members of society. Their sudden disappearance would most certainly set alarms off. 

Agatha rolled her hand over and laced her fingers with Maria’s who stiffened slightly before settling comfortably in the warmth of the sudden display of affection.

“Maria…whatever happens, please…please take care of my children. Take care of Loqi and Prompto. They…they don’t deserve to feel the same way.” She whispered, her voice failing her every now and again but delivering her words to Maria nonetheless. Maria nodded, gave her Lady’s hand a brief squeeze, before standing up and pulling Lady Argentum to her feet.

“Wipe your tears ma’am, you need to calm yourself. How about some time with the boys?” Agatha smiled.

“Yes, I would like that.”

-

Agatha entered the bedroom with great trepidation before relaxing upon seeing her boys alone, pouring over an old family album. She crept up behind them, an unknowing grin stretching across her face before she swept her arms around them and pulled the pair close to her. Her elated giggles mixed with their surprised shrieks and squeals before her sons began laughing too.

“What are you two up to, hmm?” She teased, looking over their heads of perfect blond hair to see old family photos. She recognised one image instantly; it was of herself standing between her mother and father. They were on a fishing expedition and her mother had just caught a twenty-seven pound fish. She remembered laughing at her father’s childish pout.

“That’s you! Right?” Prompto pointed at her figure in the picture, dressed in simple denim and a tank top with knee-high boots as she pointed dramatically to the fish that her mother held proudly.

“Yes, I had much shorter hair back then, didn’t I?”

“Grandpa looks weird.” Loqi stated, turning the conversation away from any reminiscing and back to the picture.

“That’s because he’s pouting, I assumed you would know that expression better than anyone else Loqi.”

“Hey!” Loqi protested, lightly and playfully punching his mother without any real bite as his little brother cackled in their mother’s lap. 

Agatha brought her arms more tightly around the two as they resumed eagerly flicking through the pages of happier times. She sighed quietly, endlessly wishing for happy days like those in the photographs to come again. She went to speak but ended up coughing unexpectedly, she quickly covered her mouth and smiled through her coughs to reassure her boys.

“Sorry, would you like some chocolate sultanas?”

The boys beamed and all but raced out of the room, leaving Agatha alone to the tightness in her chest, the tickle in her throat and the photo album that lay in front of her.

-

The door clicked open eerily as Agatha laid in bed. She forced herself to be as still as humanly possibly, waiting for the door to close or for a knife to be pressed to her throat. The door shut with a click and she heard a rustling of fabric.

“Are you awake my dear?”

She didn’t think she could stiffen any more but apparently the universe was determined to prove her wrong. She gave up pretending and sat up, turning her head to meet her husband’s apathetic gaze.

“Yes sweetheart?” She hissed. Verstael smirked bitterly before folding his coat and laying it over the back of the chair in the corner.

“I simply wanted to ask you something.” He replied in a calm and terrifyingly normal tone. Agatha glared at him as he made his way to the bed and sat down, reaching out and gripping her thigh tightly.

“What?” She spat out as she tried to pull away but his hand grasped her with a horrifying amount of brute force, she winced at the pain she felt all the way down to her bone.

“How much did you learn?”

There was no point in lying if he was able to discern that much.

“Everything.”

“Everything?” He questioned, the smug bastard, he wanted to hear her say it. She leant forward, allowing each and every disgusting emotion boiling under her skin to permeate and rise onto her face, pulling her lovely lips into a vicious snarl and blowing her eyes open in rage and misery.

“Daelin, your own brother, you… you monster!” She hissed, managing to remove her husband’s grip on her thigh before removing herself from the bed.

“I fixed him, well, I tried to. He was going to be so much better! So much stronger than human!”

“What could possibly be stronger than a human? We can destroy life and create it by choice. We break and we stand back up! What on Eos is stronger than that?”

“Magitek Soldiers Agatha, my army!”

“It’s not yours, it’s the Emperor’s you complete and utter c-!”

“Now now Agatha,” Verstael whispered in a deep and threatening tone as he slapped his hand over her mouth, “without me there would be no army.” She grabbed his hand and yanked it off her face, breathing heavily as she spat out her next words.

“There would be no you without Ardyn.”

Her head snapped sharply to the right, a searing pain burning into her cheek as she reeled from the tremendous force her husband had applied in his slap. She cupped her cheek and stepped backwards. Verstael positioned himself comfortably on the bed and smiled.

“It seems I have been away for too long my dear, you have become rather…relaxed in your manners.” He stood up in one fluid motion and seemed to bear down on her, backing her into a corner.

“Perhaps I should remind you of your place.”


	9. In The Dawn We Die

Loqi and Prompto sat worriedly on their mother’s bed as she coughed before throwing them a weak smile. Maria came out of the bathroom and placed the refreshed face-rag to her Lady’s forehead while turning to the boys.

“Alright boys, time to leave your mother in peace.”

“What?!” Loqi exclaimed while Prompto looked frantically between the other three, his mouth opening and closing in shock.

She perked up a bit, cheekily grinning at the boys before lunging forward and pinching their cheeks playfully.

“Which she can’t have with you little imps in the room!” She teased before dragging them to the door, ignoring their whines and complaints in favour of closing the wooden door in their faces in order to provide her Lady with some peace. 

Peace, unfortunately, came in the form of an unsteady silence before her Lady entered another vicious bout of coughing and wheezing while Maria found herself hopeless by her side. 

“Is there anything I can get you ma’am? Some water, or food perhaps?”

Her Lady shook her head and attempted to speak but all that left her lungs were dry, raspy breaths. Maria grabbed for her Lady’s hand and held it gently, hoping that somehow her simple presence was enough of a reassurance during all this agony. 

She sat there, stewing in her unnecessary guilt, before an idea struck her and she leapt up, causing her Lady to stiffen and enter another bout of coughing in shock.

“Sorry! Sorry ma’am, um…do you have a headache?”

Her only answer was a simple shake of her head.

“Good, how about I read to you ma’am? Or would you prefer some music?”

Her Lady shook her head and breathed out the word ‘first’ in a feeble voice before somehow sinking further into her lush pillows. Maria nodded determinedly, turned, and made her way to the bookshelf before searching its shelves for a suitable novel.

“How about some Kafka ma’am?” She turned to see the shake of her Lady’s head. “What about…Jane Austen?” Another shake. “Philosophy perhaps? Some Nietzsche?” Another soft shake. “Okay…would you like to hear some…uh…Mary Shelley?” A nod. 

Maria brightened and plucked ‘Frankenstein’ off the shelf, a well-worn edition with the pages lovingly stained by sunlight and only minor spillages of tea along the edges.

“That…was my mother’s.”

Maria looked up and met her Lady’s withered gaze before smiling.

“It’s beautiful ma’am, I can tell it was cared for.” She responded, gesturing to the spine of the book that displayed an amateur, but careful, attempt of binding the book after it must have fallen apart.

“My father…” Her Lady whispered and Maria nodded.

“I remember him, a kind soul. I didn’t know he did bookbinding though.” Her Lady nodded in understanding, a confirmation that signalled the end of their conversation and left Maria to thumb open the pages carefully. She reached behind her and dragged the chair by her Lady’s dresser over to the side of the bed. She sat down and held her breath as she looked up to her Lady who lay with her eyes closed, anticipating the first line of the book that she must know so well. 

Maria fought the urge to brush the stray strands of hair that lay on her Lady’s face out of the way and instead pulled the book open and set upon the words of Mary Shelley in the brutal, Summer afternoon.

-

“Loqi?”

“Mmm?” Loqi paused the construction of his paper plane to turn and look at his brother who gazed up at the ceiling.

“Mum’s gonna be okay…right?”

Loqi huffed out a breath of air through his nose and whacked Prompto on the head lightly.

“Of course she will, you dolt. She’s Mum, you saw her handle that lizard, a cold ain’t gonna bring her down.”

Prompto rolled over onto his belly and frowned at Loqi who met his gaze with his own, quizzical one.

“What?”

“Mum and Dad aren’t happy, are they?” Loqi stiffened.

“Of course they are, who told you that?”

“No one, it’s just…” Prompto trailed off and picked up a pillow from beside before bringing it to his chest and hugging it tightly. Loqi abandoned his paper plane and opted for sitting on the window seat next to Prompto and picking up his own pillow, toying at the fringe along its edges as he thought carefully.

“They’ll be fine, we’ll be fine. It’s just a phase.”

Prompto sat up.

“A phase?” Loqi nodded, causing Prompto’s frown to deepen.

“They were fighting last night.”

“They were?” Loqi asked, not even bothering to hide his surprise. Prompto nodded enthusiastically, his expression becoming distraught as he hugged the pillow tighter, squeezing the life out of the stuffing.

“I heard the staff talkin’ about it!” He exclaimed. Loqi shook his head.

“Everyone fights; we fight too! And we’re still good, right?” Prompto nodded eagerly, letting go of the pillow and leaping to Loqi’s side, hugging his right arm tightly. Loqi smiled and let go of his own pillow, deciding to ruffle Prompto’s hair instead.

“Mum and Dad are going to be fine. You’ll see.”

Prompto sniffled weakly as he nodded against Loqi’s arm.

“Okay.”

-

Maria closed her Lady’s door after sneaking one last glance at her sleeping figure. She would need some tea when she woke, Maria’s mother always said that tea cured all that time could not. She would also need something substantial to eat, maybe she could ask the chef to make some pumpkin soup (her Lady’s favourite).

Maria was so wrapped in her thoughts as she made her way down the corridor and towards the staircase, that she didn’t notice the lingering dark figure that made its way to her Lady’s room.

-

Verstael entered his wife’s chambers silently, locking the door behind him before turning to observe her peaceful figure and all its failing health.

“My dear, what have you become?” He whispered, but no reply came. He straightened himself out, there was no time for delay, that wretched maid might be back any second. Oh he hated that girl, Maria was it? Yes, Maria. 

He wasn’t home often but when he was he saw. He saw and he knew. That horrific beast of a girl always lingering by his wife’s side, eager to please and he saw. He saw the way she looked at his wife when she thought no one was watching but he was. He was always watching. If it wasn’t through his own eyes it was through the other staff.

He shook himself out of his haze and searched his pockets. He could deal with Maria later, but now, he had to take care of his wife. He had to make her better. Better than Daelin. Better than himself. She would be wonderful, the most majestic being he would have ever had the joy in creating. 

Her mind had been addled by the murmurings of the Lucian empire hadn’t it? Or was it Maria? Maria whispering into her ear at night. Lying about who Verstael was, convincing her of his ‘evil’. Well no more. Not anymore. After tonight his wife would breathe clearly and see clearly. He just needed to work on her a bit.

He pulled the small vial out of his pocket and watched the thick, black liquid slosh around inside. Yes.

He would make her better.

-

“Excuse me?” Maria blinked in surprise as the boys huddled around her skirt.

“You heard me Maria.” Dennis sighed as he closed the door behind them and offered to take her hat. She had been gone for what? A couple of hours and suddenly..?

“Lady Arge-Besithia left?”

“Yes.”

“She couldn’t have! She was in no condition to leave! You saw her Dennis, she should be resting upstairs…where did she go?” Maria turned with a frown intricately decorating her forehead while also pulling her basket closer to her.

“Her parent’s mansion in Diyu. It was decided that the fresh air would do her some good and help her to heal.” Dennis explained as he took Maria’s shawl and hung it up by her hat. Maria’s frown deepened.

“Decided by who?”

“Lord Besithia of course. He arranged the coach and helped her pack. She should be gone for a week at the most.” Dennis reassured the boys who relaxed slightly and slipped off their shoes before running up the staircase to their room, leaving Maria to stand there and fiddle with the sleeves of her olive green dress.

“Is something wrong Maria?” Dennis inquired but Maria simply shook her head and turned away, stalking off down the corridor towards the kitchen.

“Nothing Dennis, I’m fine.”

-

Maria opened the door slightly and peered in on the boys as they sat hunched over Loqi’s desk, their small arms moving frighteningly fast as they worked on…whatever they were working on. She entered the room quietly and decided to make her presence known by closing the door harshly, letting the bang and click of the doorknob echo throughout the room. The boys started, whipping around to see who it was before warming immediately to her appearance.

“Maria!” They cried and waved her over eagerly.

“What are you two up to, hmm?” She asked as she leaned over their small figures to look at their work. It was….a card.

“It’s for Mum!”

“A get well card is it?” She asked, picking it up gently so as to not spill too much glitter.

“Yeah! Do you think she’ll like it?” Loqi asked.

She inspected their drawings and smiled as she read their horrible handwriting. Words full of love and adoration. Her Lady would love this.

“It’s perfect. I can mail it for you if you want.”

“Really?!” Prompto squealed. She nodded before she was swamped by two pairs of arms and beaming smiles.

“Thank you Maria!” The pair cheered as they hugged her tightly.

“It would be my pleasure.”

-

Maria crossed the road quickly and began to search her handbag for the envelope. She whipped it out proudly and wore a smile as she deposited it in the post box. Hopefully that would put a smile on her Lady’s face. She must be missing her boys terribly…Maria frowned, her smile instantly vanishing from her face. 

It was still odd. 

Her Lady loved her boys so deeply, she wouldn’t have left like that. Without a word. She wouldn’t have left at all! Maria paused her inner monologue as she realised she had begun biting the nail on her thumb. She shook herself out of her thoughts and turned to walk back to the Besithia mansion when she noticed a telephone box.

Her Lady wouldn’t leave like that. Maria steeled herself and made her way down the street to the phone. Her Lady would’ve preferred not to have left at all, and if she had to leave, she would’ve made sure she got a chance to say good-bye to the boys. Anyway, her Lady had been ill before and the Besithia mansion’s staff always took good care of her. So why was it suddenly so important that she stay with her parents?

Maria rummaged through her purse and found a couple of gil which she inserted steadily into the telephone box. She picked up the receiver and dialled. She knew the number, she had been forced to memorise it after her Lady had a panic attack last year and the only people who knew how to deal with it were Dennis (who had been bed-ridden that day) and her Lady’s parents.

She waited as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Maria bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably in the booth, watching the few cars that were out on the road drive by. After the fifth ring someone picked up the phone and spoke.

“Argentum Manor, may I ask who is calling?”

“Ah, yes. This is Maria Teninburgh. I was hoping to talk to Lady Agatha Argentum please. I’m her…friend.” She silently scolded herself as she watched the late afternoon sun slip behind the rooftops. The voice on the other end of the line was quiet before speaking again in a confused tone.

“I’m afraid Agatha isn’t here, you’d best try Besithia Mansion dear.”

Maria froze.

“I was told that she was staying with you.”

“Well dear, we haven’t heard anything from our daughter about a visit. Perhaps it’s a surprise?”

“No, no, she’s ill. They told me that she would be with you in order to better her health.”

“Who told you that dear?”

“Lord-” Maria stiffened in realisation, her eyes widening in shock and her hand gripping the phone tightly in fear, “Lord Besithia said so, ma’am.”

“Well I’m afraid he was incorrect…” Whatever else was said Maria didn’t hear. Her blood was pulsing in her ears, speeding up with her heartbeat as her body began to tremble. Oh gods, her Lady was….oh gods. 

She came out of her terrified daze only when a hand landed on her shoulder and gripped her painfully, the receiver slipping out of her grasp as she whipped around to face the person behind her. 

Fear crept in like the cold from last Winter and gripped her heart, leaving it stuttering and thumping louder than before. Her breath trapped itself in her throat. It didn’t want to face a world with a man like him in it. She hated facing him. She hated his face. Cruel and twisted like a dead, gnarled tree. It suited him to be seen from afar but up close, gods she could vomit. She understood her Lady’s fear now, and with it mixed her own. A disgusting swirl of turmoil and despair that needed to be spat out. 

He smiled and her fear ran like a cold fire through her, as if she’d just eaten a meal with cold chilli in it. She tried not to recoil in a mixture of disgust and primal fear but she couldn’t help it. Lord Besithia just brought out the worst in her.

“Well hello Maria, you’re out rather late.”


	10. Family Bonding Time!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come,  
> The Walrus said,  
> To talk of other things  
> Of shoes  
> And ships  
> And sealing wax  
> And cabbages  
> And Kings

“Dad?”

Verstael looked up from his paperwork which was spread far and wide over the dining room table. He covered the documents closest to him with folders and other less…revealing files before meeting his son’s timid gaze.

“Yes, Prompto?”

Prompto removed himself from the doorway and fidgeted as he shuffled by the door (such weakness, but Verstael could fix that, will fix that).

“Um…have you-I mean, I was wondering if you had seen Maria?” Verstael allowed a slow smile to spread itself across his face as he stood and made his way to Prompto.

“Miss Teninburgh, you mean? The young maid?”

“Y-Yes father.”

Verstael came to a halt a couple feet away from Prompto and hummed non-committedly for show, leaving Prompto hanging eagerly. He stopped humming and sighed dramatically.

“If I remember correctly, we had to fire her.”

Prompto’s eyes widened before he stuttered out a ‘what’, but Verstael simply talked over him (if he wasn’t going to say anything useful he shouldn’t say anything at all).

“Yes, she was caught stealing the silverware from the kitchen.”

“B-But Maria wouldn’t!”

Verstael whipped around, his eyes flashing wildly and Prompto withered, collapsing in on himself in fear. He looked away from his father who sighed and attempted a warmer approach (such a sensitive little thing, so demanding). He kneeled down to Prompto’s height and placed a hand on his shoulder gently. The boy sniffed and looked at his father with watery eyes.

“Unfortunately she did my boy, but all will be fine. You’ll see.”

“But Maria was nice…” Prompto trailed off as his father’s gaze became stern.

“People change Prompto, some for the worse. It’s simply in their nature.”

Prompto nodded sadly even though he didn’t understand, Maria had been so nice and fun too! She would never have tried to steal the silverware. She didn’t need to…well, he thought she hadn’t needed to…

“I know, how about we do something special? To cheer you up.”

Prompto looked up at his father, hopeful and naive all balled up under blue eyes and soft flesh (skin was inefficient, metal was much better).

“Like..what?” He asked tentatively.

Verstael grinned and turned back to the table, fiddling with some documents and stacking files.

“Well, we haven’t spent much time together, the three of us that is. So I decided that we should get to know each other a bit better, and I thought it would be best to start with me.” He picked up a picture of himself with his sons when they were younger and when his hair had been more blond than grey.

“What are we gonna do?” Prompto asked, standing a bit straighter and becoming a bit more confident in his place within the dining room the longer the conversation went on (had to cut it short, don’t want the kid to get full of himself).

“Would the two of you, Loqi and yourself, like to visit my workplace? See the work I do for the Empire?”

Prompto’s eyes widened in excitement, all worry and fear over that bitch of a maid forgotten.

“C-Can we?” he squeaked and Verstael forced a smile.

“Of course you can, I said so.” Prompto leapt forward and hugged Verstael, throwing his thin, lithe arms around his father’s waist before bolting from the room, shouting his thanks and promising to tell Loqi. Verstael sighed to himself, content with the faces of his past and future test subjects staring up at him from the table’s sleek wooden surface.

“The time has come.” He whispered to himself before releasing his grip on the photo of himself with his children, letting it float down and nestle amongst the mournful faces of his other experiments. These two would work. This time would be different; he’d spent so many years preparing for this day, this moment. His efforts would not be wasted. Yes, he thought, his lips curling into a predatory grin that made even the dust in the room scamper away from him.

Yes, he would get it right this time.


	11. Suffering Is Fun

Prompto and Loqi clung to their father’s side as they were escorted down a brightly lit corridor, people in swishy, white coats walked all around them, terrifyingly silent as they kept their gazes trained ahead. Prompto glanced at his brother who met his frightened gaze with his own before the pair gripped their father’s coat more tightly.

The corridors became brighter and brighter until Loqi was left squinting at all that they passed by; he could only make out vague shapes, some squelched, others bubbled (he thought he heard a voice at one point, a scream). He was scared, he knew he was. He could feel the trembling in his hands and could see his fears mirrored in his little brother’s. Gods he didn’t want to be here but Dad…Dad really wanted them here. 

He wanted to make Dad happy. Prompto wanted to as well…but they wanted to make him happy at home. Not here. Loqi wanted his Mum, wanted her to stroke his hair like she did when he had a fever. He wanted her to hug him like she did when she told them she loved them. Loqi bit his bottom lip as he eyes grew wet.

He really didn’t want to be here.

-

Prompto was practically being dragged by his father as they continued down corridors, stopping every few minutes as Dad began to explain what he did for work. Prompto didn’t understand anything he said, he was using big words that he hadn’t learnt yet (Loqi would know, Loqi was smart).

Prompto turned to look at his older brother and was shocked to find how scared he looked. He felt worried. If Loqi was scared…what did that mean for him? He rubbed his face into his father’s coat before feeling his father pat him on the head. He looked up, expecting to see warm eyes but Dad wasn’t looking at him, he was looking through the glass at something that squeaked and squealed. 

Prompto couldn’t see what was behind the glass, he wasn’t tall enough. But Loqi was. Loqi could see. His face slackened in terror before tensing in fear, Prompto’s worry burrowed further into his heart and deeper under his skin as he watched the emotions grip his brother.

He felt so useless. He was so small and young so people casually expected little from him, but Loqi was in distress. He was family. His older brother. He had to help him calm down, help him realise it was all going to be okay. 

Prompto reached out tentatively, and a little awkwardly, curving his arm around his father’s figure to gently grasp Loqi’s hand. Loqi jolted, biting down on his lip to stop himself from yelping.

He turned sharply, causing Prompto to jump back a bit but he refused to let go of his brother’s hand. He refused to.

-

Agatha hung limply from the chains the held her to the wall. How long had she been here? She remembered everything going dark and when she woke she was screaming? What had they done to her? Coughs racked her body, the chains clinked against the cement wall and she grimaced as some dribble ran down her chin. She wanted to furiously wipe it off.

What had she been reduced to? WHERE WERE HER BOYS? She clenched her teeth at the thought of them being alone. Alone? No, they had Maria. Agatha trusted Maria. Maria could, would, take care of them. If her husband laid a hand on her boys…she would kill him.

-

Maria curled in on herself as the scraping and screaming around her intensified. She dug her nails into her legs and burrowed her face into her man-made darkness. She just wanted to go home. She just wanted to go back to the mansion and see her Lady and the boys smiling and laughing happily again.

“I don’t want to be here, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out!”

She didn’t even realise she’d been crying until she could taste the salt in her mouth. She didn’t even realise her fingernails had cut deep into her legs and caused her to bleed until she used those same very nails to scratch a thin, weak line into the cement wall.

“Let me out!”

-

Prompto stumbled before falling to his knees, scraping them on the hard concrete surface. He turned around in shock, betrayal painted visibly on his face (an expression Loqi would never forget).

“Dad?”

Verstael grinned cruelly as his grip on Loqi’s shoulder tightened and the warmth from where Prompto had gripped his shaking hand slowly vanished.

“You two boys are very special, I don’t know if you know that.”

The iron door locked and Prompto ran to its cold and imposing surface, banging his tiny fists on it with as much force as he could. Screaming as loudly as he could. Loqi flinched at each pound on the metal surface, frozen in shock as his ‘father’ steered him to his own cell. 

The door opened with a devastating creak that shockingly matched Prompto’s raw, terrified screams. Loqi sobbed as he was pushed in, crying in confusion because he didn’t know what else to do. Crying because of what he’d seen, the writhing black mess that bubbled and pulsed and spoke.

“You boys,” Verstael began as he closed the door. Locking it behind Loqi as the small child turned around, eyes wide and frightened. His sobs silencing as unbridled fear gripped at his bones, shaking and rattling him so viciously that Loqi was scared he would fall apart; collapse into a pile of limbs and bones. 

Prompto had mostly quieted down, and if he hadn’t before he certainly did when his ‘father’ hit the metal door violently. Loqi was left to shake and listen to his brother’s soft whimpers of a pain that couldn’t be seen with the shedding of blood or bruising of flesh. A pain that was deeply settled into both their souls that no one could see it and therefore fix it.

Verstael stepped back from the doors and nodded to himself, their silence symbolising their obedience.

“..are my greatest creations


	12. Through The Bars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll go back and check the chaps once I'm done putting them up, but for now you are stuck with any little mistakes that may be present in the text. Sorry

Loqi couldn’t stop shaking as the sounds of his brother’s whimpers died out, he needed to hear him. He needed to know that he was still there-

“Loqi?” He started and leapt to the wall that separated the pair, hoping that somehow, through the concrete, he would be able to hold his brother.

“Prompto?” He whispered back, his hand flat against the wall, trying to feel where Prompto was.

“I-I’m scared. This is a dream right? It has to be…why?” Prompto’s voice was weak and feeble, Loqi had to strain his ears to hear it. He swallowed his own fear and closed his eyes. He had to focus. He had to help Prompto; had to be strong for him. Mum wasn’t here, and neither was Maria. It was up to him to make his brother feel as safe…well as safe as he could from the other side of a concrete wall.

“You’re going to be fine.”

“B-But Dad is-He-why?” Loqi flinched

“I promise you…you’re going to be fine.”

There was nothing but hesitant silence between them which Prompto used to regain his breath and calm himself (as best as he could after being locked in a dark cell by his own father).

“You promise?”

Loqi smiled.

“Promise.”

-

Noises. A cacophony of noises. Screams, shrilly screams echoing around her. Bouncing around her head, in her head. She gripped the skin and hair around her ears and dug her nails in, trying to find a way, anyway, to release the fear gripping her as tightly as her own hands gripped herself. So much fear here. So much misery. The screams met wails and growls. Screeches started up from the cell next door and Maria slammed her eyes shut.

She was so scared.

-

Prompto moved to a corner of the cell and shook himself slightly. He’d always hated the dark, and now he was locked in a small room with it. He hated it. He scrunched his eyes up so much that it hurt. He sobbed and rocked himself (like his Mum did when she was upset). Everything was so silent outside his cell (Loqi? Loqi, are you there? Please don’t leave me).

His sobs became more frantic as he fell into a state of panic. He wanted his Mum. He wanted Loqi by his side, throwing an arm over his shoulder and flippantly judging the snooty silverware polisher Mum had hired a couple weeks ago. He wanted a home. Where was his home? (This was his home) Where was his comfort? He felt so lost, so alone (even with Loqi in the cell next door).

“Prompto?”

That voice…(so weak, where was his brother’s bravado? Where was his sarcasm and smirk? His sly blue eyes? Where was he?) Prompto sobbed a little more loudly.

“Pro-”

“Sorry.”

More silence (too quiet, say something, anything! Please I don’t want to be alone here! Loqi!).

“Don’t be…it-” The quiet seeped into him, crawling under his skin and writhing with a sudden irritation that Prompto was scared of (he didn’t know what to do with it, what did he do with it?).

“…it’s going to be fine.”

(No it wasn’t, not with Loqi’s voice breaking like that. Not with the way Prompto could hear his brother stifle a sob and sniffle loudly in the frightening silence. It wouldn’t be okay. Maybe it never would be.)

Prompto lifted his head and looked through the bars of the heavy iron (? was it iron? Or something worse?) door’s small window and bit his trembling lip. The harsh white light on the side; it’s unfriendly, harsh luminosity burnt his eyes but it was light. He drew in a deep, shaky breath before finding the small amount of courage left within him to reply.

“…okay.”


	13. vul-ner-abl-e

Verstael watched Prompto and Loqi from his monitors in his office. It had been a week since he had placed them in confinement. He knew that a week was usually enough, everyone had cracked by that stage, but the boys seemed to be enduring out of the simple fear of what might happen to them if they didn’t endure.

That tenacity would make a great soldier.

“Sir? Should we administer the doses?”

Verstael looked up at his colleague and nodded, hiding his excitement behind a withering smile.

“Yes, begin phase Vulnerable.”

“Yes sir.”

-

Loqi didn’t understand what was happening at first. He’d been sitting in his cell, starving, rocking himself back and forth and talking to Prompto so he wouldn’t focus so much on his complete and utter lack of food when he heard it.

Laughter.

He almost cried when he heard the joyous sound. It had felt like months had passed in the darkness; weightless depression the only thing known to him in that time (and Prompto’s crying), such a long time since he had heard such a happy sound. Pure music to his ears.

He found himself thrown back into the past of their mansion; their home. It had been so safe and warm. Why was he here? What had he done wrong? The emotional trigger of pain suddenly brought on a monsoon of physical torture. His arms, legs, every limb ached and tensed, convulsing under his skin. His organs pulsed, his tongue feeling like dead weight in his throat. He started to gag. What was going on? Was it because he was hungry? Was he going insane?

There was a strange sweet smell in the air that his stomach growled at; it smelt like the pastries Maria used to bake. He gripped his arms and held himself tight. He didn’t like this. Too many feelings at once, like he was overloading. Short-circuiting. He wanted to go home! Screams tore themselves from his throat and he fell into darkness where all he knew was pain and screaming.

-

Prompto jolted back from the wall in fear as he heard Loqi scream. What was going on?

“L-Loqi?!” He cried out, rushing to the wall that separated them. He scraped at the wall desperately, trying to dig his way through to the other side. Loqi needed him, he was in danger, it was so dark, was there something in the dark? The darkness was so quiet, Loqi was so loud. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like it. Walls closing in. So many walls, four walls, and a heavy door. He wanted out. Where was Loqi?!

Tears streamed down his face and his head throbbed as the screams continued, their sudden extreme range of noise startling his ears after days with nothing but silence. Let him out! Let him out!!

The tears felt strange on his face. Skin felt strange on his body. Writhing. Squirming. Like bugs. Like the lizard his Mum had found that one day in the back garden. Black and glistening. Red eyes and goo. Prompto shivered at the memory but kept clawing at the wall, the pain becoming a surprisingly welcomed form of defense against the darkness. Something to hold onto. Something to block out the thoughts of his lack of vision.

Prompto didn’t realise what he was doing, what he had done, until he came to later. Curled up in a ball in the corner, hands stinging with every movement. Face warm and damp. Why…?

He crawled over to the small lines of light that filtered through the bars and held his arms in them. He gasped loudly and had to resist the urge to throw up. His hands were mangled, bloody messes. His fingernails grated down, some completely gone. His arms were cut up, like he had dug his nails in and pulled and oh…there was one of his nails. Embedded in his flesh. The pain hit him like a fall from a balcony.

What happened what was going on why was this happening to him to them they were good people mum was a good person so was loqi and maria where was she would they get out of here why was dad doing this what did he want why why why why why

The darkness began to whisper to him, gently pawing at the edges of his consciousness and Prompto promptly passed out in the small slivers of light that illuminated the scratches on his cheeks and neck.

-

Loqi found himself standing in the very centre of the room, as still as a statue and- had he been talking? What had he been saying? Maria? Mum? Prompto? What was he…

His arms hurt. He couldn’t see why. He walked slowly over to the door, his legs aching with every movement (why? How long had he been standing there?). His body began to wake up. Began to scream. No bring back that laughter please. It hurt less than the screams. The screams. He remembered his throat…hurting. Screams.

He tested his voice but only a static rasp came out. He held his arms under the light, his eyes widening as he took in the deep nail marks that had drawn blood. He tried to grimace but his lip hurt. Why? He touched his bottom lip tentatively, when he drew his fingers away he saw dry blood. What? Why? Why? Hwy? Ywh? Wyh? W h y ?

“Prompto?” He managed to screech quietly but no response came.

“P-Prompto!” He coughed.

“Prompto!”

“Propmto!”

“Tomorpp!”

“Ormtopp!”

“Prtoomp!”

“P r o m p t o !”

-

Verstael sipped his cup of tea in delight. Two days the effects of the gas had lasted. Impressive really. He hadn’t been expecting such an astounding result but the boys had completely lost their minds. How vulnerable were they right now? How much were they questioning? Did they recognise reality anymore?

Prompto had been exquisite. Driving himself to that much pain, that much harm. And Loqi, he had been terrifying to watch. How loud he had been screaming cutting off into silence as he stood and looked into the camera. He’d stood completely still for the entirety of the second day. Verstael hadn’t been able to make out much of what Loqi had been mumbling however. Didn’t really want to know actually, just wanted his boys to be Vulnerable.

One step closer to the serum.

One step closer to being perfect.

“Sir?”

Verstael frowned and looked over at his hesitant colleagues.

“Yes?”

“Do we continue the doses?”

Interesting. Do they? He didn’t want to expose them to the gas too much, afraid they’d completely lose their minds and become failures but…one…two more times couldn’t hurt (him) right? For science of course.

“Up the dosage for tomorrow at one o’clock, give them some time to calm themselves. Then after that dosage, triple it. I want to test their limits. We need them Vulnerable.” He ordered.

“Yes sir.” They obeyed obediently. Prompto and Loqi would too. All in due time. All in due time.

-

Screams. Darkness. Blood. Pain. It hurt. It hurt. Ih trut. I ht ur t. Hr it t. Someone help. Please. Make it stop. Stop. Stop. Spto. Tspo. Please. Please. Please. Let me out. Let me out. Let me O U T. The laughter. He wanted the laughter. Where was the laughter? Was there only pain? He didn’t like pain. Didn’t want pain. Wanted warm embraces. Chocolate sultanas. Where were those? Where was she? Where was he? Where? Ehrew? Rweeh?

-

Scratch at the walls make sounds get attention maybe Dad will let him out today it will all be a nightmare no more darkness open eyes only darkness why darkness why hurt him Dad why Dad why Dad why did you do this greatest creations what are those is it this don’t want to be that if it’s this Loqi’s quiet again Loqi please no please don’t leave me I don’t like it here shaking the light so small so violent so harsh where was the softness where was the sun sun sun is there sun here where is here he wants to go home i want to go home where is home now this is home now.


	14. Fan The Flames

He was pulled out of the cell screaming. He couldn’t tell how long he had been in there. Wailing. Clawing. He just couldn’t tell, and that scared him most. He struggled and screamed; high-pitched and hoarse. He could see Loqi struggling in another scary man’s arms as well, yelling and twisting his head to bite at the arms of the one that held him.

Their fighting didn’t work. They were so weak. They hadn’t eaten anything in… days? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell. They were dragged, kicking and screeching, down the sterile corridors until they slowly devolved into revolting metal walls. Loqi had fallen quiet. 

Prompto turned back to see if he was okay but instead he was met with the dull stare of his brother’s gaze as he looked to the horror ahead of them. Prompto followed his gaze and furrowed his eyebrows, his teeth grinding all hope he had to a halt. 

He didn’t understand (he wasn’t as smart as Loqi was) so he didn’t know how bad those machines were. 

Not until he was shoved inside and chained to the chair in there.

He watched through the glass walls that sealed him in, watched the scary men drag his brother off somewhere else. Loqi started screaming again as he realised they would be separated. He cried, desperately trying to gain traction on the concrete floor, trying to run to where Prompto was, but his cries faded. 

He disappeared from Prompto’s sight.

Prompto shook against the chair’s cold metal back, his weakened arms falling slack against the cuffs that bound him, trembling uncontrollably, eyes darting everywhere. Flashing lights. Beeping lines. Machines. Screens. Sounds. Scary men. Scary women. White coats. Was his dad there? Where was his dad? Where was Loqi? What were they doing to Loqi?

A scary man walked up to the glass with a clipboard and a pen that clicked. He started to write down notes, looking Prompto over. He spoke, a sharp hissing voice flowing out of his twisted, cruel mouth.

“Subject NH-01987, today we are going to begin a range of tests that are designed to push you to your limits. This will lead to your body becoming more willing to accept the Serum. Do you understand?”

Prompto’s mouth flapped open wordlessly. The man frowned before sighing and tucking his clipboard under his arm.

“These tests are going to hurt. They are designed to hurt you. Do you understand?”

Prompto shook his desperately, whining in the back of his throat, writhing against the straps. The man lifted an eyebrow, examining Prompto’s response with unsympathetic eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He turned around and nodded at a scary lady who stood by a panel with fancy, glowing buttons and more screens.

“Begin.”

-

Loqi was stripped bare, cuffed and thrown into a stark white room, the exit slamming shut with a fatal click. He shivered and curled up against the locked door. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he was scared. He was ashamed to complain about it. What about Prompto? What was happening to him? He wanted his brother back.

The lights began to flash unexpectedly, his eyes searing with the pain of overstimulation. Bright yellow lights tearing at his tired and puffy eyes which he clumsily covered with his thin arms. Pathetically trying to protect himself from all that was scaring him. 

A growl rumbled from the other end of the room, causing Loqi to lift his trembling head and see a cage being pushed through a new hole in the wall. Where had that come from? Could he escape through there?

The door to the cage rose slowly, blood pounding in Loqi’s ears, making his head hurt, as he watched a long body lumber out as if it was in a drunken stupor. What…was that. Loqi froze, eyes widening. No. Oh no.

He turned around and began pounding on the door with his cuffed hands.

“LET ME OUT! PLEASE! PLEASE LET ME OUT!!” He shrieked until he thought his throat was bleeding.

The daemon rumbled and growled once more; a sound that grew only more and more sinister as it reared its ugly, mangled head up at Loqi as he threw himself against the door

“PLEASE DAD!! I-I’LL DO ANYTHING!! I’LL BE GOOD!! PLEASE! PLEASE LET ME OUT!!!”

The growls grew louder, Loqi’s banging becoming more and more frantic as the footfalls, and their sharp clicking of claws on concrete, came closer.

“DAD!!!”

-

Prompto felt like he couldn’t scream anymore, his throat hoarse and burning with each desperate gasp for air. Still, it didn’t burn as much as his feet. He looked down, tears falling and evaporating around his eyes as he squinted at the intense, radiant, flickering light of the fire that painfully licked at the soles of his feet.

It hurt. It hurt so much. He threw his head back and sobbed loudly, wringing his hands, anything to release the pain of the flames below. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t do anything but voice his despair as loudly as he could inside a tight, glass box. But he couldn’t anymore. It hurt too much. He didn’t want to hurt anymore.

Why were they doing this he thought he’d been a good boy didn’t Dad love him was this why what had he done to deserve this he thought Dad had loved him where was Mum why was she letting this happen where was Loqi what were they doing to his brother what were they doing to Loqi was it this or something worse it hurt it hurt so much he just wanted it to stop make it STOP

Prompto screamed again. And again. And again. The scary men and women watched and made notes as each ragged wail tore it’s way out of his throat. Pausing the flames and their torture, allowing Prompto a brief moment of respite. Allowing him enough time to feel the searing hot pain that engulfed his feet before throwing him back into the blistering nightmare. 

He howled until he could taste blood. Until he was no longer swallowing air but thick, bubbling, red liquid instead. He felt his breaths becoming short. Too short. He couldn’t breathe. This was too much. LET HIM OUT!

The scary man from before called out but Prompto couldn’t hear him over the roar of the flames. The scary woman from before nodded solemnly, pressing a bright, pulsating button. The fire slowly died down. Prompto’s screams slowly died down. The pain lingered dangerously. 

With a hiss the glass cage opened and sweet, luxurious oxygen filled his mouth; leaving him to gulp it down hungrily, filling his lungs painfully with each rise of his chest. It provided a tense kind of peace, that Prompto found he didn’t like, as his feet and legs bawled at him with such animosity that he felt it would never go away.

He sagged limply as another woman freed him from his cuffs, all the boisterous and hopeful fighting spirit ripped out of him as he flopped into her arms ungracefully. She didn’t hesitate, surprisingly, in picking him up and carrying him out of the chamber to a quieter room with a welcoming, leisurely atmosphere. She lowered him onto a softer chair (that didn’t burn him) and pulled one for herself up beside him.

A cool wet cloth was pressed to his left foot, unnoticeable at first until everything began to sting all at once. Stinging in his feet, his legs, his eyes. He whimpered and she frowned.

“Shhhh.” She cooed softly, holding the cloth to his mangled foot that no longer looked fleshy but more like the lumps of charcoal Maria used to clean out of the fireplace in winter. 

The scent of burnt flesh invaded his nose and Prompto retched. The lady jumped. She stood up suddenly, rummaging somewhere out of Prompto’s blurry line of sight, before returning and handing him a bucket.

“Let it all out.” She ordered.

Prompto didn’t want to disobey. He didn’t want to be hurt. He looked into the bucket before giving in to the pressing feeling at the back of his throat. He threw up. And threw up. And threw up. 

He pulled back and looked at his vomit which was a terrifying shade of red (funny, he thought puke was supposed to be green). She took the bucket from him and took the cloth away too, making him miss the sweet, refreshing coolness of its touch. He whimpered again and she shushed him.

He turned his head to watch her move and jolted when he saw her carrying a needle back to him.

“No, no!” He groaned, but she was fast. She gripped his arm and stuck the needle relentlessly into his vein. He squealed, scared at the sudden prick, scared of all the pain. He felt something flow into his body, under his skin, but it wasn’t as intrusive as he thought it would be. It was…warm.

He looked at her questioningly and she sighed.

“Elixir. It’ll help you heal.”

As if to confirm her answer, the charred skin began to buzz with a pleasant warmth. He watched it stitch itself back together slowly, like when he used to watch his mother sew in the parlour on slow days of white, blissful snow. He turned to her, eyes wide, and she giggled.

“It feels good right?”

Her smile felt odd. Shaky. Unstable. Prompto shifted back from it slightly but nodded all the same.

He didn’t want to be hurt again.

-

Loqi stared at the ceiling as blurry figures rushed in, shouting and pointing, some holding guns. There were loud, rapid noises that hurt his ears and people picked him up, carrying him. Each jolt of his body made him cry out, made a gurgle of blood escape his throat. He looked down and began to cry.

He’d really liked having a lower half of his body.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed and look forward to the rest of the story <3


End file.
